


Room Service

by sunalso



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fuck Or Die, Porn With Plot, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 11:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8531368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: S2 AU. Buffy needs Spike's help, Spike needs Buffy's help. My take on the much used trope of Buffy having to get it on with a vampire to save her life. Fluffy, smutty, and it ends up in a happy place. Set sometime before 'I Only Have Eyes For You'.Beta'd by Gort. Archived at EF and AO3 ONLY.





	

What I've got you've got to get it put it in you

                -Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Give It Away” 

****

This was impossible. She couldn’t. Not with him. “I’ve changed my mind. I think I rather die than sleep with you.”

“Really, Slayer? I don’t know whether to be insulted or pleased as punch that you’re going to die out of sheer stubbornness.” Spike lit the cigarette that was dangling from between his lips. The smell made Buffy scrunch her nose up. Could he be any more disgusting?

“Not to mention you have to bite me first, otherwise you can’t do what I need you to do. You’ll probably just drink my blood and run away.” With a sniff, she crossed her arms and turned her back on the blond pest in the wheelchair.

“Whose bloody fault is that in the first place, ducks? It’s not like I’m real thrilled to have to tell you, of all people, I can’t get it up at the moment.”

Buffy whirled back around. “Oh, poor Spikey.” She held up her pinky and wiggled it. “He can’t have any fun with little Spike Jr.”

The vampire’s eyes flickered gold before settling back on blue. He casually slumped in the chair and flicked ash onto the dirty brown carpet of the motel room they’d agreed to meet in for the World’s Most Uncomfortable Conversation.  He smirked. “You’re frightened.”

“What? Of you?”

Spike’s grin was predatory. “Of yourself.”

“You want to explain that one?”

“You’re scared you’ll enjoy it.”

Buffy’s mouth fell open. She needed a comeback, pronto, because now he was way too close to the truth. “You’re delusional.”

“Slayer, I could make it so good for you that for the rest of your admittedly very short life you’d be thinking of me no matter what other tosser you let enjoy your goodies,” he purred in a honey-drenched tone that, damn it, her body reacted to. “I’ll make you come so hard you wouldn’t be able to remember your own name.” Her stomach was all butterflies and the area between her legs gave a hungry pulse.

No! She shook her head.

Spike shrugged. “No skin off my back. You die, I still eventually get out of this chair, and until that other Slayer can get back here Angelus has free reign to torment your little friends and family. Tell me, do you have a puppy?”

Buffy closed her eyes. “Damn you,” she whispered.

“Already there, baby.”

Why did this have to happen to her? Hadn’t she dealt with enough crap recently? When Buffy had worked out that the cryptic answer to not dying from the poison that’d been injected by the Dabur demon’s stinger was a compound in vampire semen, she’d closed the book and dropped it into her backpack when Giles wasn’t looking. He didn’t need to know that her survival depended on getting groiny with the undead.

The answer had seemed simple. Find vampire, have sex, get better. Only it’s not like any of the fledglings she’d run across had stopped trying to bite her long enough for her to even get around to propositioning them. Angelus would simply kill her. That left Spike as the only vampire she knew that might be willing to make a deal with her.

The idea hadn’t even seemed that bad at the time. He wasn’t the worst looking vamp she’d come across. But sitting in the same room with him and realizing that Spike would have to…to… _fuck_ her was another thing entirely. His eyes were too blue, his fingers too long, and his mouth too infuriating.

She’d die. Slowly. Agonizingly.

Buffy knew she could withstand whatever, but the vamp had brought up her mom and friends. Without the Slayer to protect them, Angelus would have free reign. He wouldn’t let them be just because she was dead.

There was another part of her that didn’t want to because the last person she’d been with had been Angel. Buffy had been holding tight to the belief that Angel had been her soul mate, her true love, and that his touch was the only one she’d ever know. It was a stupid, little-girl fantasy, but she’d thought she’d be able to hold onto it for a long time. Letting someone else, someone that she despised, inside her defiled Angel’s memory in some way.

God. She dropped her head into her hands. What had possessed her to capture that minion and send word to Spike that she wanted to meet with him to trade her blood for something of his?

Even worse, the text had been specific: sexual congress was a requisite part of the act. She couldn’t just ask him to jerk off into a cup and hand it to her.

If she wanted to be alive to take care of her friends and family she had to do this.

“Planning on lying back and thinking of Sunnydale?” Spike asked. She nodded tersely and he chuckled.

Buffy peeked at him from between her fingers. “Is it going to hurt, much?”

“Thought you weren’t a virgin?” Spike raised an eyebrow at her.

“When you bite me.”

The leer left the vampire’s face. “Maybe a little, but I can make it so it won’t be so bad, if you’ll let me.”

“Okay,” she said in a shaky voice.

Spike turned his wheelchair and adjusted it so that he was able to transfer himself to the bed. It was covered in a hideous orange bedspread that was frayed and tattered along the edges. His eyes were defiant as used his arms to maneuver himself out of the chair and Buffy decided he really didn’t want her help right then. The black duster was shrugged off and left behind and she found her eyes glued to the way his biceps stretched the sleeves of the black T-shirt he was wearing.

Once he was on the bed, sitting up against the headboard, he gestured towards his feet. “Be a luv and help me with the boots?”

She could do that. And it was a good thing, right? If he was taking his shoes off, surely it meant he wasn’t planning on ditching her the instant he’d swallowed a few mouthfuls of her blood. She hoped.

Buffy gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed and began untying the laces on Spike’s boots. He didn’t make a sound, though his eyes were on her as she loosened first the left and then his right. Pulling them off his feet she quickly jumped up and carried them over next to the door. Carefully, she set them down and toed off her own kitten-heeled shoes, which she set next to Spike’s. Her brows drew together. Seeing his clunky pair of Docs and her much smaller footwear sitting beside each other seemed very homey. She shook her head and padded back over to the bed.

Spike’s socks were mismatched. One was blue argyle and the other red plaid. It was…cute. She smiled at his less-then-scary socks.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” he sighed.

“It’s adorable.”

“You take that back,” he grunted, but he was smiling when she risked a glance at his face.

****

The Slayer was skittish.

Not that he could entirely blame her. Under normal circumstances he’d be trying to rip her head off so he could drink from her like a sodding fountain.

Only it didn’t seem like that’s what she was worried about. Fighting with him would be normal. That was familiar territory. 

The chit was scared of sex.

Which was a bloody waste. The Slayer was gorgeous: all fragrant blonde hair and wide green eyes. That body that excelled and killing his kind had the strength, stamina, and flexibility to be one hell of a lover. She was the sort of girl wet dreams were made of.

Not his of course.

Well, at least not often.

And now the Slayer thought his feet were adorable. He could work with that. Spike patted his leg. “Come sit down, kitten. We’re going to have to get a mite bit closer for this to work.”

Buffy took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Ah, there was the Slayer. Very slowly she made her way to the head of the bed. She knelt next to him, but kept her eyes away from his face.  He crushed his smoke out in the ashtray on the nightstand.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “There’s a good girl. I’m not going to hurt you”’ He kept his hands down and stayed as still as possible. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you all better. There’s a girl.” Buffy turned and sat that delectable arse of hers on his thigh, scooting until she was sitting entirely on his lap.

“Is this okay?” she asked, her hands twisting in the fabric of her skirt. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

He could vaguely feel her weight, but it didn’t hurt. Her being worried about him made something funny happen in his stomach that he didn’t want to examine too closely.

“You’re as light as a feather, pet. I’m going to put my arm around your back now.”

She nodded and he wrapped her in a one-armed embrace, rubbing softly at her shoulder. The Slayer stiffened, but he continued making circles with his hand on her arm. After a few moments she sighed and relaxed. Tentatively, Spike cupped the back of her head and turned her face to his. Her lower lip was sticking out slightly, practically begging to be tasted.

His eyes slid shut as he brought his mouth to hers. Her lips were soft and tasted slightly of cherry chapstick as he sucked that plump pout into his mouth.

****

She’d never imagined being so close to Spike before, unless it was a few seconds before he crumbled into dust. To her surprise he smelled…good, like leather, tobacco, whisky, and something she could only describe as male. His voice and hands were gentle and soothing, not at all what she’d been expecting.

Buffy had believed he’d sink his fangs into her as soon as she was close enough, that she’d have to fight him off to get him to stop, and that if he kept his side of the bargain he’d be brutal with her. Spike being nice was throwing her for a loop. When he turned his face up towards hers she didn’t have a clue what he had planned.

The kiss was a surprise. His lips were soft and searching, but when he gently sucked her lower lip into his mouth with a faint groan, she felt it all the way down to the area between legs. She throbbed.

Buffy panicked, scrambling away from Spike and ending up huddled in a ball at the end of the bed.

The vampire looked confused. “What the bloody hell is wrong now?”

“No kissing.” She hadn’t thought about kissing. It was an Angel thing. It was something you did with someone you love.

“Christ.” Spike drug a hand through his hair. “You know what, you crazy bint? No. I’ve agreed to every other demand of yours. This one’s my condition. I’m not going to do this without kissing you.”

Huh? The Big Bad was demanding to kiss her? “Why?”

“Because you’re the Slayer and not a bloody whore!” He nearly roared the last and all her Slayer senses went on high alert.

“Oh.” She was trembling. Spike was glaring at her. If she wanted to she could run away. There was nothing he could do about it, but then she’d be dead. What would she tell her mom? That she was gasping out her last breaths because she’d gotten…turned on when the wrong vampire kissed her and she couldn’t handle it?

Buffy shook herself. She was the Slayer. “Okay. I…okay.” Maybe she could pretend he was Angel.

Spike sagged back against the headboard, looking immensely relieved. He patted his leg again. “Better get back up here then, we’re burning moonlight.”

With a shaky laugh she crawled back onto his lap. His arm immediately settled around her. His other hand curved around her cheek and his thumb stroked lightly back and forth over her lower lip.

Not quite knowing why, she poked her tongue out and swiped it across the tip of his thumb. Spike started and a ragged moan rumbled through his chest. “Buffy,” he panted once before his lips crashed back into hers.

His mouth was more demanding this time. His tongue ran along the seam of her closed lips and when she parted them slightly, Spike dove deep into her mouth. He tasted as good as he smelled, and despite her best intentions she couldn’t pretend for one second that the tongue stroking hers was Angel’s. This tongue was sinful. It sought out every nook and cranny of her mouth. It rolled across her palate and seduced her into exploring the mouth pressed to hers.

When she first slipped her tongue across the line and into his mouth, Spike’s lips briefly closed as he sucked slightly on it. It made her whole body flame to life. His lips relaxed again and she shyly ran her tongue over his teeth. She poked the tip of her tongue up behind them, skimming over a series of bumps that must be where his fangs were hidden. It was so different than her own mouth. Subtly, she shifted so she was pressed closer to him. Her breasts were smashed against his chest as she rolled her tongue around his and then sought out that place that was different again. Angel had never let her just explore like this. Probably because he hadn’t wanted to remind her that he was a vampire.

As she prodded at the roof of his mouth, the tip of Spike’s tongue was flicking up and down the underside of hers. It felt obscene. Almost like he was licking…

Buffy pulled back from him, abruptly realizing she needed air as well as space.

How could he make her feel like that with just a kiss?

Angel’s kisses had made her feel warm and cherished. Spike’s mouth left her hot and aching, and with the distinct impression that she was wanted. Desired. Belatedly, she noticed that she was straddling him. When had that happened?

One of Spike’s hands grabbed her wrist and he pulled her arm in between them. His thumb circled over the delicate skin that covered her pulse point. The pads of his fingers were rough. He was a man that used his hands. Gently, he brought her fingers to his mouth and suckled on the first two while stroking them with his tongue. Buffy’s breath caught as his licking sent of a serious of white-hot pulses through her belly that terminated in the space between her thighs.

He pulled her fingers out of his mouth. “Now, pet, I want you to touch yourself.”

What?

“Uh, Spike?”

“Do whatever you usually do when you’re alone in your girly bed to make yourself get off.”

“I don’t.”

Spike’s mouth dropped open. “You don’t masturbate?”

Buffy dropped her eyes. It’d been a point of pride until right this second. Good girls didn’t touch themselves; that was something that only the delinquents that skipped pep rallies to share a cigarette behind the gym would do.

Cold fingers grasped her chin. Spike turned her face back to his. “Slayer.” Was it her imagination or had his already deep voice dropped another octave? “Have you ever had an orgasm?”

“Um, I thought I did, when I was with Angel…”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“I don’t know! It felt good at the time.”

“If you don’t know then the answer is no.”

Buffy’s face flamed red. How dare he judge her and what she’d done, and, and…

To her shame, hot tears slipped down her checks.

“Christ.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know I’m no good, in bed, and that I’ll just mess up because there’s something wrong with me when it comes to sex, but I can’t die and leave my mom unprotected-“

Spike’s hands clutched at her shoulders. “Stop with the sodding sobbing, sweets. If you didn’t get off it’s not because there was something bloody wrong with you. It was your first time. Angel should have been the one to show you. The wanker was an ass before he lost his soul.”

“Don’t speak about Angel like that.” That night had meant everything to her. Spike did not get to pass judgement on it. Her chin quivered as she clenched her jaw and forced the tears to stop. Weakness was not something she displayed before her enemies.

“Fuck this,” Spike spat. He was angry. His face was twisted with it and his whole body was tight. The muscles in his neck were standing out in stark relief. She’d been a fool to believe this would work.

Her head drooped. “I’ll go.”

She started to push herself off Spike, but he snaked an arm around her and held her with bruising force. Her instincts screamed for her to free herself and her arm raised to punch the vampire.

“Oi, none of that.” Spike caught her fist and with an obvious effort he relaxed himself. She followed suit, her breath coming in short gasps. Cautiously, Spike let go of her hand and she dropped it to her side. “There you go,” he breathed. “Now let me show you heaven.”

His cold fingers delved under her skirt and before she had time to protest he’d ripped her underwear off and tossed it away without so much as looking at it. Not that it was anything special. She most certainly had not dressed up to meet with Spike.

The dance of his fingers against the outer lips of her pussy made her gasp and she tried to press her thighs together.

“Kiss me again,” Spike rumbled and his hand stilled as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Her eyes slid closed as his mouth started working its magic. The heat low in her belly returned as his tongue swirled with hers. After a minute his fingers resumed their stroking. It felt better than before and she wiggled against his hand. His fingers spread her sex open and he ran the callused pad of one finger right down the middle.

“Bloody Hell!” Spike’s head snapped back so fast he bumped against the headboard. Buffy’s eyes flew open and she saw him wince in pain.

“What’d I do?” she squeaked, ducking her head so her hair fell over her face.

“Nothing kitten, you’re just so blasted wet.”

Buffy wanted to die of mortification. “Sorry,” she said. Her body never seemed to do the right thing unless she was trying to kill something.

“Huh?”

She risked a glance up at his face. Spike’s eyes were sort of glazed over and his fingers had never stopped moving. Slowly, he focused his gaze on her and his face softened. “Sorry,” she whispered. Hopefully he wouldn’t be upset with her and the way her juices were getting all over his hand.

“What?” His brow creased. He looked completely perplexed for a second and then both his eyebrows shot up. “Oh, no luv, it’s good, it’s perfect. Best welcome a man can hope for. Just wasn’t expecting it. I thought I’d have to really work to get you ready to go. This is like bloody Christmas.” He leaned forward and hungrily kissed her again.

Buffy found her hands, which had been resting lightly on his chest, rising of their own accord to tangle in his hair. Spike adjusted his hand and hit a place that made her gasp. His finger swirled, rubbed, and flicked over the spot--her clit, she finally figured out--until she couldn’t keep still. As insolent as her hands, her hips started rocking and the tempo of Spike’s strokes on her flesh increased. Her thighs quivered and her whole body flushed.

She threw her head back. “Spike!” she yelled as, unexpectedly, the whole world came apart and pleasure radiated out from between her legs, only to come echoing back again. After the first spams had passed she collapsed against his chest. His hand was still petting her, but gently and over her entire pussy instead of just that one spot. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal.

“Thank you,” Buffy murmured against his chest.

“You’re very welcome. But I’m not done with you yet. That was just the beginning.”

Dazedly, she pushed herself upright so she could see his face. “There’s more?”

He grinned wolfishly. “Take your shirt off, Slayer.”

She did as she was told and then pulled off her white sports bra without being asked. Spike’s eyes landed on her breasts and he licked his lips. But instead of touching them he actually took his hand out from between her thighs. She whimpered at the loss.

Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth and sat upright enough to pull his own shirt off. Buffy caught her lower lip between her teeth. He was gorgeous. Which was not a word that should apply to anything evil, especially vampires, and especially ones she was sitting on. It didn’t make it any less true, though.

 Her fingers slid over his torso, tracing the lines of his muscles. He let her play for a few moments, then caught her hands to tug her flush against him. His mouth claimed hers again and Buffy melted against his chest.

She looped her arms around his neck as they kissed and Spike worked a hand between their bodies so he could renew his assault on her pussy. He pushed a finger up inside her, then two, slowly sliding them in and out. Wanting to feel them better, Buffy clamped her inner muscles around the intrusions.

“Oh, god,” Spike murmured. “Promise me you’ll do that when it’s my cock inside you.” Buffy nodded. She was embarrassed by his course language, but the picture he painted wasn’t one that she was quite so worried about anymore.

Spike kissed down the length of her neck, not stopping until he reached the rosy pink tip of one breast. He sucked it into his mouth and she moaned, unprepared for the way the sensation traveled from her nipple to where his fingers were sheathed inside her. As he switched from one breast to the other, Spike’s thumb began circling over her clit.  

The exquisite sensations he was creating were pushing her towards another orgasm. “More,” she gasped, her nails digging into his back.

He nipped her breast one last time and dragged his tongue from the hard peak of her nipple to the soft skin over the pulse on her neck. “I’m going to do it now, Buffy.”

“Okay.” He was going to bite her. A vampire was going to bite her. “Don’t stop the other stuff,” she said a little shakily.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He pressed his face against her neck and she could feel when he shifted into vamp face. His fingers never stopped working her and, to her shame, it appeared having a vampire with his fangs a hairsbreadth from her neck was not going to keep her from getting off. As her thighs started shaking again she screwed her eyes closed and tightened her arms around Spike. When her peak slammed into her and she moaned, there was a sharp pinch on her neck. He’d bitten her, but the slight pain only seemed to drive the pleasure higher. The walls of her pussy clamped down tight around Spike’s fingers as they hit a spot inside her that made the pleasure almost unbearable.

Buffy hung suspended in wave after wave of bliss. Every pull he took of her blood kept her from tumbling back down. At last he released her throat. She clutched at the back of his head, trying to keep his mouth anchored to her throat.

“Now, now, wouldn’t want you passing out before the real fun begins.” He tugged on her wrists, placing one of her hands on his chest and the other on the sizable bulge in the front of his jeans. Staring, she rubbed his cock through the denim. It thickened and lengthened under her fingers.

She glanced up at the vampire. He was leaning back against the headboard with one arm slung behind his head. His features were still those of the demon and her blood stained his lips and fangs. Buffy decided she must be the worst Slayer in the history of Slayers because the sight didn’t repulse her, it only made her want him more.

“Undo my pants,” he said, lisping a little around his fangs. Eagerly, she complied, undoing the top snap and yanking down the zipper. “Pull them down for me.” Buffy grabbed the waistband and slipped them off his hips. He raised his pelvis and she stripped them down to his knees before her curiosity got the better of her.

Spike’s cock jutted up out of the dark brown curls of his pubic hair. Buffy blinked. Maybe it was because he’d already scrambled her brains a couple of times, but she thought it looked beautiful. It was also…bigger than she’d been expecting. Had she really made fun of it earlier?

“How am I supposed to get it in me?” she said, meeting Spike’s wild yellow eyes.

He chuckled. “Princess, considering how dripping wet you’ve been this whole time that’s not going to be a problem.”

“Oh.”

“You can touch it. Not to sound too much like a git, but that’s your salvation right there, Slayer. Seems only right it’s standing up that high and proud, since it’s your blood filling it.”

That didn’t make any sense. “It’s usually not like this?”

“Usually I don’t feel like I could use it to pound a nail in if I couldn’t find a hammer,  I think I might dust if you don’t get to work on it soon.” His look turned sly. “Being that it is going to save your life, seems the least you could do is give it a kiss hello.”

Spike’s expression turned to one of shock as she shrugged and hunched over so she could run her tongue up the length of his shaft. When she got to the broad, nearly purple head, she took it into her mouth. He tasted good, much better than she’d been expecting. Not that she really knew what she was expecting. The taste was a stronger version of how he smelled, but muskier. Delighted, she sucked on him and hummed her enjoyment.

“Enough!” he barked and his hands pushed at her.

Buffy quickly let his cock go and sat up. “I’m sorry! What’d I do? I won’t do it again, I promise!” Her heart was pounding. Please, she silently begged, don’t let her have messed this up somehow. Not now.

“Oh, luv…” Spike hooked her elbows with his hands and pulled her up his body until she was crushed against his chest. He rained soft kisses on her face. “That bloody wanker really did a number on you. You weren’t doing anything wrong. It was just another second or two of being in that divine mouth of yours and I was going to be spilling my load down your throat. I didn’t know if that’d work to stop the poison in your system, so I was thinking it’d be best to do things the regular way, first, eh?”

That made sense. Distantly, Buffy was aware she should be more grossed out by the idea of any guy, let alone this one, getting his stuff in her mouth, but honestly the idea sounded more exciting than icky.

Spike tenderly cupped her cheek in his palm. “How do you want to do this? I could just stay like this, or-“

“Um, are your legs working alright?” she interrupted, before he starting listing the entire Kama Sutra.

“Seem to be, though I’m not sure shagging you up against the wall is the best way to test that theory. But I’m game if you are.” Spike raised an eyebrow at her.

“Uh… that’s not…maybe we could just do it the regular old way?”

For a second Spike looked like he might protest, but then he smiled softly at her. “It’s whatever the lady wants, and if that’s missionary then she can have missionary.”

“Please. I want to see you, while we’re doing it.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask her why because she hardly knew herself. It just felt important.

Spike made room for her to lie down. He kicked his jeans the rest of the way off and she smiled to see that he still had his mismatched socks on. She shimmied her skirt off and then froze, unsure about what to do next. Spike lay on his side next to her. “Relax, kitten. I’ll make it good for you.”

Buffy took a deep breath. “I only kind of know what I’m doing.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” His hands skimmed over her body, pausing at her breasts to pinch and roll her nipples. She mewled and thrust her chest into his hands, hoping he’d keep touching her that way. It felt so good. When he changed to lightly brushing his fingers over her belly she huffed and he chuckled. “Need something?”

“Oh, you know.”

“No I don’t.” Though the glint in his eyes made her highly suspicious that he did know and was teasing her. “It turns out I’m a sodding terrible mind reader. If you want something you’re going to have to say it.”

“Uh, touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

“There,” she grumbled.

“Where?”

“If I stake you, you’ll never find out.”

Spike just smiled, his face slipping back into its human mask. He nibbled on her shoulder with blunt teeth.

“Okay, fine. You win,” Buffy huffed.

“Can I get that in writing?”

“Would you please…touch my…boobs.” Her face burned.

Instead of returning his hands to her breasts, Spike rolled over on top of her and nuzzled his face against them. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and massaged it with his tongue.

“That works,” Buffy said weakly. He hummed his agreement, which made her gasp and wiggle as the vibrations stimulated her already over-sensitized nerve endings. One of Spike’s knees knocked against her thigh and she spread her legs open after only a moment’s hesitation.  With a happy sounding grunt, he settled himself in between them.

The hard head of his cock nudged against her pussy.

Buffy stopped.

Oh god, what was she doing? This…vampire had tried to kill her multiple times. He had no soul. Spike wasn’t her boyfriend, he didn’t care about her, what was going on?

“Buffy, are you okay?” He’d finally realized she wasn’t responding anymore.

“Why are you doing this?” Fear was replacing lust in her belly. She was nothing to him. What he was doing didn’t make sense.

Spike placed his hands on the bed on either side of her head and leaned down until he was less than an inch from her. “You asked me to, Slayer.” His expression was unreadable.

“But you’re evil. I thought I’d have to fight you to stop you from draining me dry, and that if you did keep your end of the bargain, that it’d be little more than rape and I’d be left torn and bleeding.”

Spike’s face had gone through a litany of emotions while she’d been talking. Finally, he closed his eyes. “I know I’ve never given you reason to think of me as anything more than a beast, but it still hurts to hear that’s all you believe I am."

Buffy blinked. Vampire. Soulless vampire. He wasn’t supposed to be able to be hurt, but she couldn’t deny that it was rolling off of him in waves. “Hey.” She cupped his cheek with her hand. “I just don’t understand. I don’t think that now. You’ve treated me better than I deserve-“

“You deserve the sun and the moon, pet, not some monster simply happy to spend an hour or two basking in your sunlight.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster.” Buffy brought her legs up to wrap around his waist. “You’re not going to screw me and leave me like some animal. You’re not acting like I’m some little girl who exists only for your use. You’re treating me as a man does a woman. Make love to me, William. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, can we pretend we’re not enemies? That the only reason we’re doing this is because I want you and you want me?”

Spike was trembling. He lowered his head to bury his face in spot where her neck and shoulder joined. “Yes. God, yes, Buffy. Please.”

She tilted her pelvis and the head of his cock slipped into her channel, stretching the walls. Groaning, Spike brought his mouth up to meet hers, kissing her deeply as he slowly worked the entirety of his cock inside her. Once he was fully sheathed he paused, looking down at her.

“Doing okay, luv?”

She nodded. “You feel amazing.”

“Told you it would fit.”

“But you didn’t say it’d be like heaven.”

“Like heaven?”

“Yup.”

“I think I broke you.”

She giggled. “Just get with the moving, before I decide it’s you that’s broken.”

“Yes ma’am. Wouldn’t want you saying I didn’t do my job.”

He thrust slowly, sliding a few inches in and out of her each time. He kissed her tenderly with each glide in and her muscles caught at him every time he pulled back.

It was sweet, gentle, and eventually not enough.

She wiggled a little, but Spike seemed entirely focused on his actions. Buffy quirked her lips. Apparently he really wasn’t a mind reader. “Spike?”

“Yes, Buffy?” he gasped.

“I could do with things being a little, uh, harder, and faster.” She bit her lip. “If that’s okay.”

He groaned in response and adjusted himself so his knees were more firmly planted. He increased the tempo of his hips and plunged further in and out with each thrust. Spike’s cock was slamming into that place his fingers had found inside her and Buffy hardly recognized the noises coming out of her throat.

Spike’s mouth was next to her ear, keeping up a stream of praise and dirty talk that she didn’t have the brain power to even comprehend. When her legs started quivering, Buffy knew she was close.

“Harder, now, Spike,” she pleaded. Her head restlessly thrashed back and forth on the bed. With a growl, he gave her what she wanted, slamming his pelvis into hers. Her back arched and she chanted his name over and over until she peaked with a soundless howl. The relentless plowing of Spike’s cock inside her as she came took her even higher than she’d been before. The pleasure shattered her and when the pieces started coalescing as she came back down, she had the feeling she wouldn’t ever be quite the same.

Spike was still bucking into her. “Buffy, my Buffy, oh luv, my girl.” He came with a hoarse cry and his semen was cool as it flooded her. He collapsed on top of her.

Buffy softly stroked his back. It was over.

She wouldn’t cry.

With a groan he pulled out of her and a rush of come followed, feeling sticky. 

It was what she’d payed for with her blood.

It couldn’t be over. She didn’t want it to be over. Another vampire she’d let inside her body that wouldn’t look back at her as anything but a means to get off. Spike would get up and leave and all she’d be left with would be her memories and the ejaculate between her legs.

Spike looked wary. He pushed himself to the edge of the bed and stood up, then walked briskly to the door and back. With a smile, he bent to pick up his jeans up off the floor.

“Slayer-“

“It’s not fair,” she interrupted.

“What’s not fair?” His face scrunched up in puzzlement.

“Well, you know right now that my blood fixed you, but I won’t know for a few hours if I’m getting stronger instead of weaker.”

“Yeah?” He was staring intensely at her.

“What if I need another dose?”

Spike dropped his jeans back on the faded rug and stalked over to stand beside the bed. She hardly dared to believe in the hope she saw flaring in his eyes.

Buffy lifted the covers in invitation. “I mean, there could be all kinds of factors. What if you have to be wearing your demon face? Or what if I actually do have to swallow it?”

“Are you saying we should cover all the bases, just to be sure?” Spike crawled back into the bed and curled up around her.

“I wouldn’t want to miss anything,” she whispered.

Spike pressed his lips gently to hers. “That’d be terrible, pet. No worries, Spike will see you right.”

****

Sod Angelus. And Drusilla. They were welcome to each other. He had nearly everything he’d ever wanted in the shape of a petite blonde Slayer who was currently riding him into oblivion.

It’d been at least twenty-four hours. There'd been napping and a pizza in there, somewhere, but sooner or later he was going to need to go to the butcher’s. He knew if he wanted to keep the girl he’d have to give up the fresh, on tap stuff. At least what didn’t come out of her. He was thinking a few swallows of the ambrosia that flowed through her veins once a week and he’d be set. It didn’t matter if the other six days he had to drink cold, half-clotted pig swill, as long as he had her nothing else mattered.

Buffy planted her hands on his chest and dug her fingernails in. “Fangs,” she gasped.

The Slayer had turned out to be quite the bossy little bint in bed, which made both him and the demon purr. He gave her what she wanted, complete with a rumbling growl, and was rewarded by her speeding up her hips and gripping his cock snugly with those absolutely brilliant inner muscles. Spike was well aware he tended to be a pussy-whipped son of a bitch, but what a hell of a pussy to be whipped by.

Buffy undulated her hips rapidly as she peaked again. He’d lost count of the number of times this go, just knew he’d never get tired of the feeling of her coming around his prick. A few minutes later he roared his own completion, exploding into her warm and welcoming heat.

At this point Buffy was clearly cured and the shagging was just because they couldn’t get enough of each other. Even the Slayer had dropped the pretense at some point. Not that it hadn’t been fun thinking up all the ways to get his jizz into and over every last bit of her.

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face into the sweat soaked place between her breasts and taking in huge gulps of air perfumed with her essence. His tongue darted out to lick a drop that slid down past his nose and  headed for the peak of her nipple.

Their peace was broken as the door slammed open and there was the unmistakable noise of a crossbow bolt clicking into place.

He tried to move, wanting to get between her and the threat, but her arms and legs clamped down and kept him pinned. He settled for turning his head to snarl at the intruders.

“Unhand her…Spike?” It was his girl’s bloody nancy-boy Watcher. Sodding wonderful. The git looked confused.

“Spike?” squeaked another, feminine voice. It was the timid little red-headed girl that followed Buffy around like a puppy. The last person, holding a crucifix that wasn’t going to do him much good unless he was brave enough to get within Spike’s reach, was the boy that made eyes at the Slayer like he had any chance with a girl like her.

“Were you expecting the blasted tooth fairy?”

The dark haired boy finally found his voice. “What are you doing, Buff?” The kid’s eyes looked like they were going to fall out of his head.

“Giles, there’s a book in my bag that’s on the table there. It has a bookmark at the place you should read. And maybe if you all could do that outside?” Buffy was blushing an adorable shade of crimson. He could feel the heat of it blossom under the cheek he had pressed against her chest. She was clinging to him like a limpet, using him as a shield for her nakedness. Not that he was complaining. Neither the old man nor the pup needed to be taking a gander at what was his.

“Uh, right. Willow?” The Watcher rubbed his temples like he was fighting a headache. The red-head grabbed the book, pulled the sputtering boy out behind her and closed the door.

Spike forced his human mask to return as he gazed up into his Slayer’s beautiful face. It appeared troubled and he had no way to fix it. Silently, they parted and dressed for the first time in more than a day.

“Spike.” Her voice was soft. “When we go out there you run. Get in your car and take off. I’ll stay between them and you.”

Everything inside him screamed that it’d be wrong. “I can’t…”

“You have to,” she said flatly. “Giles is going to try and kill you the moment we walk out there. If you dust…I won’t be okay. So you’re not going to play the gallant hero. You’re going to run.”

He knew better than to argue. Resigned, he nodded and followed her to the door. Before she could open it he put a hand on her shoulder and pressed one last kiss to the back of her neck. Her fingers covered his briefly and squeezed.

Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, his Valkyrie tossed open the door and marched out to face the firing squad of her friends. Feeling like a coward, he dodged the single bolt the Watcher fired before Buffy grabbed the crossbow. He threw himself into the driver’s seat of his car, thanked whoever watched over wayward vampires when the engine roared to life first try, and squealed out of the parking lot. He’d been lucky that he’d been able to bully a minion into driving him rather than having to wheel himself through half of Sunnyhell. He wasn’t going to miss that chair.

Spike looked back over his shoulder, but could see nothing except the neon sign of the hotel. Not the jagged pieces of his heart that he was leaving behind.

****

Buffy was grounded for the next forever.

Giles couldn’t figure out why Buffy hadn’t said anything about finding the cure for the Dabur demon’s poison. Or at least called him, instead of simply disappearing when he believed to her to be getting progressively weaker. He’d thought Angelus had caught her and was torturing her. Her watcher had eventually located her using a spell.

Telling Giles she hadn’t called because she’d been distracted probably hadn’t been her smartest move.

She’d refused to say anything about Spike besides the fact that he’d helped her. Everyone had read the book and had gotten the visual, so they all knew exactly how he’d been helping her. The healing fang marks on her neck spoke for themselves as to how she’d convinced him to help her.

All her mom knew was that she’d run off with a guy, again, and that even her friends were mad at her for it. Willow was more confused than angry, but Xander? It was like she’d done it to personally tick him off. She had no idea how to fix that.

And Spike? She shook her head. He was probably halfway to Mexico by now and she couldn’t blame him. What vampire would want to put up with the craziness of being with the Slayer if they didn’t have to?

But why did he have to take her heart with him? It wasn’t fair, and this time she didn’t have any clever words to make it better.

Buffy sat on the edge of her bed and hugged Mr. Gordo.

There was a tap at her window.

Frowning, she smoothed down her fuzzy pajamas and crept towards the window. If Angelus thought she would talk to him, even through a pane of glass, he was sadly mistaken.

Wide blue eyes met hers.

Her heart jumped and shed the protective cocoon she’d been trying to build around it.

“Spike!” she cried, throwing up the sash. “Get in here!”

Grinning, he half-fell over the sill in his haste to get to her. He scooped her up and Buffy wrapped her arms tight around him.

“I thought you’d be gone,” she said against his neck.

“And I thought I said you should have some faith in me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t seem to help thinking you’re going to be like the other guys I’ve…cared for.”

Spike sighed and leaned his forehead against hers. “I guess I have my work cut out for me, proving every day I’m not like those wankers.”

“Every day?” she whispered.

“Every bloody day from here to eternity.” He kissed her, but when it started to deepen she had to push him away.

“Not while my mom’s here. There’s no way I can keep quiet enough so that she won’t hear me.” Spike leered at her and she brought a hand to his face to trace over his lips. “Tomorrow’s Saturday and she’ll be at the gallery all day long. But tonight, can you just hold me?”

Spike’s face softened into a look of awe. “I’d be honored to, luv.”

Settling into bed after turning off the light, Buffy held up the corner of the comforter for him. It didn’t surprise her when he quickly stripped down before crawling in next to her and wrapping his arms around her so they were spooned together.

“You’re all fuzzy,’ he whispered.

“It's my pajamas and I’m pretty sure you should never say that to a girl.”

“I should if she’s warm and fuzzy. It’s nice.”

“Go to sleep, Spike.”

“You first.”

“No, you first.”

Spike chuckled. “Same time?”

“Nope, you first.”

“Just this once, fuzzy girl.”

“I win.”

“Always. Now go to sleep.”

Buffy smiled. “You first.” There was no reply and her smile got wider. For the first time since she’d woken up to find Angelus had lost his soul, she knew she’d be okay. And Spike was right; she was all warm and fuzzy.

_~Fin~_


End file.
